


AFTG Bingo 2k18: The Brosten Card

by exactly13percent (superagentwolf)



Series: AFTG Bingo 2k18 [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Chapter 2 TW - Panic Attack, Family Feels, Gen, Matt Boyd is a Dad, Neil Josten is his Son, brosten, i don't make the rules
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-14 02:27:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16484345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superagentwolf/pseuds/exactly13percent
Summary: AFTG Bingo 2018Matt is good. Neil remembers this, in different times and places. Really, though, he never forgets it.





	1. Happiness

It was late. Andrew hadn’t come up to the roof, but he didn’t always.

He didn’t need to.

It was cold but getting warmer. Graduation loomed in the distance. The Foxes had won, and they were content, but Neil knew better than to think it would stay that way. He could only enjoy what he had, while he had it.

“Hey.”

It wasn’t Andrew. Neil leaned back on his hands and watched Matt make his way across the roof, careful feet and wary eyes finding a safe path.

They hadn’t been alone in a long time. Neil barely remembered those moments, long since passed, with movies. With Seth, when he was still alive.

Neil still wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Matt sat slowly. He was in gym shorts and his hair was damp from a shower. Neil could smell the shampoo and soap he used. It was a familiar mix of something green and warm. He liked it.

“It’s not as cold as I thought it was.”

“No,” Neil agreed. “It’s not that cold.”

He missed this. Neil realized with a start that he’d missed Matt. Missed silent moments. Andrew gave him a different kind of peace and Neil would never turn it away, but he needed Matt just as much.

That scared him.

Matt was going to leave. He was safe and that should have been enough. Except suddenly, Neil was next to Matt on the roof and all he could think of was Nicky saying _we’re friends_ and how much it might hurt to let them all go.

It was funny how little time it took for him to start feeling selfish.

“You’re here alone?”

Neil shrugged. He wanted to explain that he’d been at practice just hours ago. That he’d showered with Andrew.

Well, maybe not the second part.

Matt pulled his knees up to his chest. “Graduation is coming up.”

Neil tried not to tense up. Really tried. He still felt a tug at the base of his spine. “Yeah. Are you ready?”

The question made him wince. It was stupid.

But Matt laughed.

“I figure, if we can survive the mafia, we can probably survive graduation.”

 _We._ Neil curled his hands tighter around the edges of his sleeves. He wasn’t used to the word. He wasn’t used to what it meant; what came with it.

“You’re probably right.”

Matt shifted. He was closer now and Neil blinked, surprised.

Fresh out of the shower, Matt always looked different. Softer. This was the person Neil imagined Dan went to for comfort, when she needed it. The person that had come out the other end of his secret battle. The one that happened before Neil.

He wondered if the other Foxes thought that way. Before Neil and after him.

“I know it,” Matt said quietly. “We can survive it. We always will.”

“You know that?” Neil tried to smile. Thought he would joke.

Matt wasn’t giving in. “I do. Neil, you shouldn’t be alive right now.”

_I know that._

More than anyone, Neil knew that.

“When I go—wherever I go,” Matt added. “I’ll always have a place for you. You know that, right?”

He didn’t. Neil didn’t know and that was the point. He spent his life figuring out when someone was lying and when they were going to strike. He learned how to avoid stares and attention. How to slip beneath the radar.

Neil never learned how to tell when someone was his friend. When someone cared about him and not just what he could do or who he was. He had never learned how to know when someone would say _you will always be at home with me._

He couldn’t say any of that. Neil just shook his head once, his mouth moving but no sounds coming out. There was no way to give voice to what it was he felt.

Matt’s gaze softened. He reached out carefully, slowly—gave Neil enough time to move away. Smiled when Neil didn’t.

Matt’s hand was warm. It was a little heavy, but he was gentle when he laced his fingers with Neil’s. This was a touch that was simple. Common, for most people. Except to Neil, it felt more intimate. It felt less like Matt holding his hand and more like Matt trying to hold his heart.

“Thank you.” It was woefully inadequate, but it was something Neil knew how to say. “For letting me stay.”

He meant before. He meant now. More than anything, though, Neil meant in the future.

“Yeah. Besides, Dan won’t let me hear the end of it. She wants to know what your favorite color is for when we pick up blankets for guests.”

Neil laughed. It was short but nothing about it was inconsequential. Nothing about them was.

All the connections Neil had with the Foxes had always been important. They’d never been nothing, as much as he had pretended they were.

It was hard to tell a Fox they were nothing. That was the thing about them. They fought too damn hard.

“About Andrew.”

Neil glanced at Matt, amused. He almost made a joke about Matt revealing his true purpose, but he didn’t. Matt hadn’t planned everything over a conversation about…whatever Andrew was to Neil. He cared, plain and simple.

Which was why he was saying something.

Neil turned to look at Matt. “What about him?”

Matt rested his chin on his knees. He was looking out over the skyline. Neil wondered what it was he was seeing.

Andrew saw the moon, most of the time. Neil saw the stars. Maybe Matt saw something else entirely, or maybe he wasn’t looking. Maybe he was feeling. Andrew and Neil did that sometimes—when they were too tired to fight the peace they held together.

“You know, none of us are mad,” Matt finally said.

Neil snorted. “Money was lost on that bet.”

Matt smiled a little. “Okay. Not entirely mad.”

Neil shook his head. He could feel Matt waiting to say something else.

Matt sighed. Neil glanced over the edge of the roof. He thought he imagined a glint like silver and bronze keys falling to the ground. It made him smile.

There were a few things that made Neil smile, now. He was learning how to let them. He was learning how to close his eyes and let the memories come, instead of pushing them down and away for a time that would never come.

He had a new life, now. He had to live it.

Matt looked sideways at Neil, head on his knees. He was quiet when he asked, “Are you happy?”

It didn’t take as long as Neil thought it would to come up with an answer.

“Yeah. I think I am.”


	2. Afraid of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're fine. You're with me. I'm here."  
> So Matt says, and Neil believes him, because nothing else feels as concrete as this.

He wakes in a flurry of motion and terror. There are shreds of a nightmare clinging to him like cobwebs.

No, not a nightmare. Memories.

His chest is heaving. Neil feels something twist around his limbs and he pulls desperately, trying to get free. For a dizzying moment, he thinks he never left the basement. Baltimore.

He can feel wood at his ankles and a hand on his neck.

( _It’s in the wrong place and he is scared, terrified—_ )

A voice cuts through the haze. Familiar, quiet, even. Matt. “Neil. Shh. You’re awake. You’re here. You’re fine.”

Neil wants to say it won’t work. He wants to explain that the fear isn’t real, so there is no way to comfort him. He wants to tell Matt to go. To leave Neil to crumble and re-form, like he always has.

His throat is too dry.

Neil’s breath comes in rasps and he wills his pulse to slow. Matt’s hands are constant weights on his wrists—not like handcuffs; they are warmer. Kinder.

“That’s it,” Matt murmurs. “You’re fine. You’re with me. I’m here.”

Here. _Where is here,_ Neil wants to say, _what is here?_ That word. _Here_ has never been a place, for Neil. It was always one place or another, always _there_ , always a city he would remember only so that he would never return again. Never be known.

If he stayed anywhere too long, someone would know him. Something had screamed at Neil, the first few weeks he was at Palmetto. A reminder that if he stayed, he would be known.

( _He is known now, with smiles and hugs and the hot-sweet breath of someone else on his tongue._ )

Time never made sense to Neil. That worsened, after New Year’s. All Neil knows is that somehow, at some point, he comes down enough to see. To inhabit his body and find that his body is sore, and his throat is ragged. _Did I scream? Was that what woke him?_

“Sorry.” It’s the first thing Neil says. He makes a point to.

Matt’s hands tighten a fraction. There is no anger in their grip; only a tremor. A reminder that Matt does not want this—not because he doesn’t want to take care of Neil, but because he doesn’t want Neil to need this kind of care. This kind of grounding.

A bump tells Neil Matt is shaking his head. “No,” he says. “No, don’t say sorry.”

“I am,” Neil presses. He is too tired for this, but he goes on. He keeps pushing, because it is all he can do in this frame of mind. In the darkness. “I’m sorry I woke you. I’m—”

“I never went to sleep,” Matt says firmly. It might be a lie. Neil could look and see, but he is too sore and the rumble that passes through his chest is all Matt’s voice. It is real and comforting and more than enough. “Don’t say you’re sorry. You aren’t doing this. It’s not your fault.”

No matter how many times he says it, Neil doesn’t think it will make a difference.

Or maybe it will, one day. _I also thought I was going to die._

“I—will be fine.” Neil redirects his sentence like an intercept on the court. He closes his eyes for just a moment and reminds himself not to say _fine_. Not to lie, when someone cares this much. When someone gives for him.

It occurs to Neil that Matt should not be able to hold him like this. They don’t fit on the same bunk bed.

He is on the floor.

“Did I fall?”

Matt laughs shortly. It comes out like a puff of air and tickles the back of Neil’s neck. “Yeah. You did. I couldn’t reach you, and you kind of…jerked to the side. Sorry.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Neil reminds him. He wants to joke. Wants to make things okay; make the fear go away.

Except he can’t.

There is a lingering dread. A reminder that his work is not done—not so long as Riko is alive. Not so long as they have one game left and the entire world watching.

This might be panic. Something rises in Neil’s chest and the sheets tangled on his right ankle feel like a hand pulling him into the abyss.

Matt’s arms pull him closer. His body is a warm, solid wall behind Neil. “Tell me.”

Neil shakes his head once.

( _Don’t tell. You are weak when you tell. You can be hurt when you tell. Do you want to hurt?_ )

“Please,” Matt says quietly. “Tell me. Let me help.”

The cracks in his mask are audible, now. Neil could follow them with his finger like the scars on his cheeks. If he closes his eyes, he can see them in photo negative.

He opens his mouth. Can only manage a whisper. “I’m scared.”

The tremor is back. Neil hates it—hates that it’s there; hates that he makes Matt feel this way. Some way. Neil can’t name it because it’s not his. But he knows. He knows how Matt curls tighter around him, as if his body can be enough to block out the world. Like if he just holds on close enough, nothing will get past the barrier of his arms.

“Of what?” Matt asks quietly. “What are you scared of, huh?”

“He won’t let me go.” Neil sighs. It comes out all at once and he is not sure why or how. It was always so hard. Before and now. “I can’t let him take anyone else.”

Maybe he never had time to mourn Seth. He pretended he didn’t care or it didn’t matter, because Neil never knew him. There was never a person to protect.

Except that’s not true.

Neil remembers. Knows the nights he spent with Matt and Seth in front of the television, with a video game or a movie. Remembers the quiet moments where Seth wasn’t angry. Where he was just another Fox, broken and melted down to shove into a mold he refused to fit.

They were alike, in some ways. Neil wondered just how alike they could have been, in the end.

“That wasn’t your fault,” Matt says quietly. His voice breaks a little on the last half. _Is he remembering, too?_

Before Matt can say anything else, Neil is speaking. “Do you hate me for it?”

He could say more. Point out that it’s his fault. Say that without Neil there—without the added distraction—there would have never been a problem. Seth would never have fallen.

Except Matt turns Neil in his arms and he is strong—stronger than Neil anticipated, when he comes face-to-face with the one person he considered his best friend.

And Matt is crying.

He is crying, and Neil only expects that from Nicky; has come to accept the way Nicky lets things so close to the surface, because he was held under so long. Neil has never looked to find this in Matt. Not when Matt had to be strong with Dan, because they tried to hold up the team. They tried so hard.

There’s no anger in the tears, though. No bitterness or disgust.

Matt smiles. He smiles, and Neil doesn’t know how to contend with this. How to understand the understanding he sees, or the acceptance he feels.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Matt repeats. His hands hold Neil’s face, guide him to the light that he somehow manages to keep behind his eyes. “And I would never hate you for it, or anything else. Okay?”

Not okay. _It is not okay,_ Neil wants to say, because he has ruined so many things just by coming to the Foxes. By staying with them when he should have run and thrown his life to the wolves, for it to be torn apart to feed the hungry Ravens before they devoured anyone else.

It is not okay that Matt accepts this. That he accepts the death of one of his friends and is here on the floor, his hands grounding Neil, another friend more broken in more places than Matt could count.

But Neil is learning that okay does not mean fair or right; it does not mean _everything was fine and no one was hurt, ever_. It does not mean magical solutions to problems that never should have existed in the first place.

Okay is just this. Just Matt awake at four in the morning, quiet and willing like he always is, even though Neil fought him and fought the Foxes and fought everything in his life.

( _Okay is Andrew passing him a cigarette and resting a hand on the back of his neck, when they are both too raw to do more than be, together._ )

Matt waits for an answer—and for the first time with him and maybe even with himself, Neil thinks about all the hell that has happened and how close he is to the end. How close they all are.

 _Was it okay?_ _Would it ever be?_

Maybe he didn’t need to look to find the truth. Maybe the truth is that the Foxes are real and comforting.

Maybe that is enough.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have 0 impulse control so i purchased 3 dice sets and decided to upload this a day early


	3. Never Have I Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil doesn't really drink, so he's never played a drinking game. Thankfully, Matt makes it easy to play sober.

Everyone is drunk.

It’s a typical Friday night. The Foxes are shut up in the girls’ room and there are plenty of bottles scattered around the place. Neil can smell a cocktail of wine and beer and hard alcohol. It’s only halfway unpleasant. Mostly, it’s like smoke.

It reminds him of good things.

Except then Matt wanders over, pleasantly buzzed and looking soft in an orange sweater. He has a question on his slow tongue and Neil can almost see it in the air. It’s probably nothing but trouble.

“Do you wanna play a game?”

“I don’t like games.” It’s his immediate answer. Neil blinks and then thinks, _this is a little too familiar._

Matt frowns. “It’s nothing bad. Have you ever played never have I ever?”

That’s a lot of _ever_ in one sentence. Neil pauses with his hand halfway to his glass of lemonade. Renee makes it well. Never too sweet.

In the corner, Allison and Dan are cackling over something Renee is showing them on her phone. Nicky is busy giving Kevin an earful about something.

Andrew is upside-down on a beanbag, watching Kevin. He’s pretending not to enjoy the show.

“No,” Neil finally says.

Matt grins. He shuffles until his long legs are tucked under him. He is also wearing fluffy orange socks. _Who gave him all this stuff?_

“So,” Matt begins. He seems determined. “The game goes like this: someone says a thing and if you’ve done that thing, you put your finger down. The point is to have as many fingers up at the end as possible.”

“Okay.”

“Usually you play with more people—”

Neil starts to move toward the others, but Matt makes a startled noise and holds his hand out. He finishes his sentence in a rush. “But! I want to do this with you. Just you. Just for us two.”

Games. Neil gets the feeling this is a lot like the truth for truth he played with Andrew. He wonders what Matt would say, if Neil told him.

“All right.”

Matt distractedly grabs his cup of whatever the hell he’s drinking. His eyebrows knit together, and he hums into the plastic. Neil waits for him to start.

“Okay.” Matt holds both his hands up. Ten fingers. His pinkie on the left hand is a little crooked. Neil wonders if it broke, once. “Never have I ever…lived in more than two states.”

One finger down. Neil frowns a little. He is starting to understand the point of the game. Matt’s eyebrows raise in interest.

This is dangerous. He shouldn’t play.

Neil opens his mouth and says, “Never have I ever gone to a birthday party.”

Matt’s finger goes down, but so does one corner of his smile. Neil starts to think maybe this really is a bad idea, but Matt charges forward.

“Never have I ever physically run away from a conflict.”

Neil looks him right in the eye and lowers another finger. Matt stifles a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” Neil contemplates his choices. He finds it’s easier to think of things he has done, so he tries to work in opposites. “Never have I ever had my hair professionally cut.”

Matt grins a little wider. His fingers stay up. This time, it’s Neil that raises his eyebrows. Matt shrugs and says, “Family haircuts. Kind of stuck with me when I moved to college. Anyway, it’s not hard to take care of.”

Neil almost points out Matt’s general routine of making it stick up in spikes, but he decides not to. That’s not the point of the game.

Matt hums and takes a sip of his drink. “Hm. Never have I ever…considered kissing one of the guys on the team.”

Neil raises an eyebrow.

“Ah, shit.” Matt slaps a hand to his forehead and another finger falls.

For both of them, at least.

Neil glances at Andrew. He’s still upside down. There is a vague gleam in his eyes, which probably means he finds whatever Nicky is saying to Kevin funny. Neil stifles a smile. “Never have I ever enjoyed a sundae.”

“Where is the joy?” Matt sighs and drops a finger. “What do you like? Anything sweet?”

Neil thinks about Andrew after ice cream and decides that is one truth he is probably not going to speak out loud.

He shrugs and instead says, “I like lemonade.”

Matt snorts. “That’s not sweet. Okay—never have I ever shut my roommate out for sex.”

Neil stares. “Did you forget how to play?”

“Oh, please.” Matt rolls his eyes and drops a finger. “Just because you don’t say, _hey, I’m going to fuck An_ —”

“My turn,” Neil interrupts shortly. Matt snickers. “Never have I ever dated someone before.”

“Please tell me you don’t call that dating.”

Neil pointedly stares at Matt’s hand. He rolls his eyes again and lowers a finger before picking up his drink again. Matt shifts and leans back against the wall behind him.

Renee, Neil decides. The socks were probably a Christmas gift. He still wonders where the sweater is from. Maybe Nicky.

“Never have I ever been arrested,” Matt prompts.

“That’s not fair.”

“We’re Foxes.” Matt grins anyway.

Neil is running out of ideas. He wonders how far he should go and glances at Matt’s flushed cheeks. Maybe this is safe. Good. Matt is giving him a chance to let things out and he’s also giving Neil a chance to pretend it never happened.

“Never have I ever owned a passport.” He might take them both down, but that’s fine.

Matt grins and wiggles five fingers.

Neil frowns. “No?”

“Nope. I figured I should apply now. Anyway, I didn’t have a reason to. Not much money to just fly off to Europe for a weekend, you know?”

 _Not really._ Vacation wasn’t ever the reason. Neil just nods and thinks about his next question. He finds Renee curled up against Allison’s side as they yawn and go on about some magazine Dan is holding. They might be talking about uniform redesigns. Neil almost wants to tell them not to change the colors.

He’s kind of become fond of neon orange.

Matt taps his cup with a finger. “Never have I ever been in the hospital—for a sickness,” he adds. As if it isn’t fair to be smart about it.

Another finger. Matt looks surprised. Like his intention hadn’t been to knock Neil out again.

“It was after I was born.” Neil shrugs. “I had some kind of cough. I don’t know the details. My mother only took me to get medicine she couldn’t buy over the counter. My father didn’t like it.”

“I bet not.” Matt’s smile is a little grim. “That was risky, without any paperwork or insurance.”

Neil shrugs. “My father didn’t want me to die before I was useful.”

Matt is quiet. This might be too much. He takes another drink and Neil hopes things can go back to how they were ten seconds ago. Matt stares bleakly into his cup for a long minute before he finally says, “Never have I ever dyed my hair.”

Neil doesn’t point out it’s not his turn. He just lowers another finger. He has two left, now. Matt has six.

“Never have I ever owned a car.”

“Technically, I don’t own it yet.” Matt smiles but lowers his finger anyway. “When you do, you have to take me with you. Andrew will tell you to get a Corvette or something.”

“Doesn’t like them. Too boxy,” Neil says immediately. Matt just groans. “Never have I ever been to a professional Exy match.”

Matt raises his eyebrows. “You’d better hope Kevin never finds out. He’s been dying for season tickets ever since I met him, but he never wanted to go alone.”

A match with Kevin. Neil isn’t sure how he thinks it would go. He doesn’t hate the idea, though.

A burst of laughter from Nicky. Kevin swears in the corner and Andrew’s lip quirks. Neil stares at it a little too long. When he turns back, Matt is looking at him knowingly. “Never have I ever fallen for the enemy.”

“He’s never been the enemy,” Neil protests. He still lowers his finger. _You’re only fooling yourself._

“Everyone is your enemy. The world is your enemy.” Matt snorts. He doesn’t look as joking as he sounds. He frowns. “Fuck the world.”

This time, it’s Neil’s turn to give a startled laugh.

Matt is an interesting drunk. A little cheerful, a little sensitive. Very relaxed. Matt is currently in the middle of stretching out on the floor, his legs propped up on the wall. He rubs his eyes with an orange-sweatered arm.

Neil has one finger left. He stalls.

“Do you usually play this? When you want to get to know someone?”

Matt shrugs and pokes at his drink. “It’s usually a drunk game.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because it’s easier to do when your drunk?”

 _You can pretend you didn’t hear something,_ Neil doesn’t say. He also doesn’t point out that he’s not drunk, so it won’t really work.

Except Neil realizes that maybe it’s not that Neil would want to pretend to forget. It’s that Matt will pretend, if Neil decides he wants him to.

_Ah._

He thinks about Matt taking shots at himself because he knows they will hit Neil, too. A little shared experience for a lot of understanding.

Last finger.

Neil looks down at his hands. “Never have I ever had a best friend.”

When he looks up, Matt’s eyes are wide. He is also crying.

 _Shit._ Neil almost jumps to say something but shuts his mouth when Matt lowers his finger and then points to Neil’s closed hands.

“I lost.” Neil shrugs.

“I don’t think you did.” Matt smiles a little.

They sit in silence for a moment. Neil thinks maybe Matt isn’t as drunk as he seemed before. His eyes are fairly clear, despite the tears.

“Oh, no. What was it this time?” Dan crouches, suddenly next to them, and shakes her head at the tears on Matt’s face. She sounds fond when she says, “He gets so sentimental.”

Matt mutters something about Neil being _too perfect for this world_ and Dan laughs quietly. She pulls him to his feet and just like that, the room shifts toward the prospect of sleep.

Neil lingers by the door to wait for Andrew—but before he goes, he sees Matt watching him from the bedroom doorway. Matt waves with both hands. Ten fingers.

Neil does the same. _It wasn’t a bad game to play._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what im not cry ing g you ar e


	4. Not Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wakes with a gunshot echoing in his head.  
> He also wakes because someone slaps him.

Triumph. The feeling floods him but just as soon as it comes, it is overtaken by cold dread and certainty.

While Riko is carried off the field, Neil only has eyes for one person. For the figure in black at the edge of the court, his obsidian gaze emotionlessly sliding past his screaming brother.

“It’s not over, is it?” Matt is crouching; Neil doesn’t remember him ever coming close.

The other Foxes surround them like a forest of orange trees, electric and warning against the outside world. To the crowd, they must look celebratory. To Neil, they look ready.

“No,” he finally says. “It’s not.”

* * *

He wakes with a gunshot echoing in his head.

He also wakes because someone slaps him.

Neil’s cheek stings and he blinks. He is acutely aware that his breathing is uneven; his chest heaves and he feels halfway between dying and vomiting.

Someone is speaking to him, but he can’t hear them. The world is a spiral of black and red spots. He can’t focus on anything. Neil reaches blindly for a knife—a gun—but there is nothing. He only hits what feels like a body.

_There is still blood on my face._

The thought comes unbidden. He reaches for his cheek; drags his hand along the skin. It comes away clean.

This might be the first thing that starts to pull him sharply back into reality. Neil blinks and then blinks again, this time closing his eyes for good. He shuts out everything and concentrates on the pull in his chest. The burning of his lungs. He counts in three languages and by the time he finishes with the third, he feels more human.

Human enough.

The person holding him is larger. The arms around Neil’s shoulders are warm. Neil begins to blink, bringing himself back in inches. Considering.

“Neil.” Matt whispers, his arms loosening just a little. “You’re awake. Can you hear me?”

_Has he been saying this since I woke up?_

“I am.” Neil winces as soon as she speaks. His throat is raw. He wonders why.

Matt answers the unspoken question. “You were screaming. The others wanted to come in, but I told them to wait. I didn’t think you wanted everyone in here.”

“But you came in.”

He doesn’t mean it to sound accusatory. It’s just the truth. A question, maybe.

“Yeah. I figured I’m on my way out, anyway.”

Matt smiles crookedly and it’s anything but happy. Neil stops breathing for a second and finds his chest constricting, again.

_Gone._

“Are you glad?”

Matt jerks, startled. He finds Neil’s eyes, disbelieving. “What?”

The words come pouring out. Neil doesn’t know they exist until he says, “You’re leaving. It’s over. Aren’t you glad?”

“Nothing is over for me, if it isn’t over for you.”

Matt’s reply is short. Neil could imagine it was angry, but it’s not. There is nothing annoyed or frustrated about the way Matt says it.

In fact, he’s mostly sad.

Neil looks down at his hands. Counts his fingers out of habit, although he knows his mind could never conjure up _Matt_ ; not someone like this, comforting and patient and saying things that mean more to Neil than anything else in the world.

Things he doesn’t deserve.

“We’re here again,” Neil realizes. He wiggles his fingers a little, just to make sure they’re his.

Matt shifts. He moves, and then—

—then, Neil is pulled up onto the bed and Matt is curled around him, his heart thumping against Neil’s back. Neil stills.

“I’ll text them,” Matt says quietly. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want, but if you need to run—”

 _I’ll run with you._ Stupid. An unspoken promise, but Neil can hear it, and it’s stupid. Matt is slower, even if he’s bigger, and if he tried to keep up, he’d just end up exhausted and injured.

But he still offers.

Neil isn’t sure whether he curls into himself or back into Matt, but either way, he ends up warmer.

Matt texts with his left hand, the screen of his phone electric and bright, and then he tosses his phone onto the desk by his head. His arm curls around Neil as if it were already there, and this is what Neil finds most comforting. Oddly familiar. Like Matt is not learning how to navigate the nightmares and horror for the first time. As if he has always known what to do.

Maybe he has. According to Nicky, Neil is not very good at hiding the moments when he nearly falls apart. Of course, Nicky also pays too much attention to Neil, so he might be biased.

It feels different, to have attention and not violently refuse it.

“You…you’ll need to tell someone. Eventually,” Matt says quietly. Neil stares across the room, at the wall, and tries not to move. “I know you don’t want to talk to Bee, but—when you need to? You can always talk to me.”

Neil turns. He can’t help it; not with this declaration. Not when Matt is selling himself for something he has no clue about. “Don’t promise that.”

“Yes, sir.” Matt raises his eyebrows, unimpressed. At least now—maybe because of the comfort of the bed, maybe something else—there is less tension. “You know I’m a Fox, too.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t.” The reminder is uncomfortable. Enough for Neil to feel his insides twist a little.

Of course, Matt is patient, and he calmly finds Neil’s chin with his hand to tilt it up. This—

—eye contact. It’s different. Neil typically avoids it, except when he need to gauge the truth or tell a convincing lie. This isn’t really either of those things.

This is just Matt, infinitely persistent, with an expression that says he has more time than is humanly possible.

“I might not be Andrew or Kevin, but I can still listen, and I’ve had my fair share of broken bones.”

“I know.” Neil does know; he knows well how each and every one of his teammates has suffered, but he still feels unsteady. Awkward, for having made it seem as if he didn’t believe enough. Especially after all Matt has done. “You were the one that dragged Kevin off, when he first tried to choke me in the hall.”

Matt stills. His tone is flatly annoyed. “Did he do it again?”

“No,” Neil says quickly, a little panicked, because he fully believes that Matt would lock him in the bedroom to kick Kevin’s ass.

It’s only when Neil feels Matt shaking that he realizes it was a joke—and then, he laughs. He laughs, and Matt pauses for a delighted second before pulling Neil tighter. When he speaks again, his voice is slurred with a yawn he squashes. “See? You’re telling me things.”

“I’m telling you now to sleep,” Neil replies. He can feel his body sinking into the mattress. Something about the way Matt’s body warms him makes everything else flood away.

There is no blood. No nightmare; not guilt, no fear, no creeping dread. There’s only someone warmer than Neil, willing to give up sleep and listen to things no one should have to, all because they are something like friends, or maybe more.

Neil is absolutely all right with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet you thought i was dead  
> psyche  
> i've always been dead


End file.
